Stacking the Deck
by Enchantable
Summary: With Wonderland falling to the Red Queen's latest scheme, the White Queen of the North makes a bid to take back the throne she feels is rightfully hers. Jack is forced to bring Hatter and Alice back to help save Wonderland and defeat both Queens for good
1. Chapter 1

**Okay! So after my completely indulgent fic "Royal Flush" I wanted to do something a bit longer and a bit more, well, epic. I'm totally with the people who said that the miniseries ended very quickly--and very tidily. So lets play around with that! **

**There is going to be Alice/Hatter in this, as well as Jack/Duchess. **

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Jack Heart stood in front of the mirror, unsure of what to make of the man staring back at him.

He had become accustom to the man he had seen before, the man who had a cause, who had an enemy. The man who dyed his hair brown, stole a ring and disappeared through an enchanted mirror. But that man was not looking back at him. The man who stared back at him had a purpose, of course, but he did not have an enemy and though he did not wish for Wonderland to be in the hand of a dictator, he couldn't help but wish that there was an enemy. Someone clear, someone obvious, someone the people could unite against. Now there was nothing, nothing but a shattered kingdom filled with people who would no sooner trust each other than start drinking coffee. How were they to possibly become like they had once been? How were they supposed to move on when the very family that destroyed them was still in power?

Jack's hands fell to his sides as he looked at the man staring back at him, hating the doubt he saw in the man's eyes. Hating the doubt he felt in his own heart. He had been groomed for this, not only by his mother but by the underground resistance as well. _Everything_ had been planned out. The coup, the fight--everything. The people were supposed to get involved, they were supposed to see him for the leader he was and t the end he was supposed to be on the throne with the support of the people he was to rule. He realized that he should have expected things would not go according to plan. He should have known that everything they had thought would happen would not. Should have. And yet somehow the thought had not crossed his mind. He had not dreamed that things would turn out as they had.

Wonderland had no economy without the Tea and without the Oysters, there was no Tea.

It was not that he wanted to begin the process again, absolutely not. But that did not change the fact that Wonderland's sputtering economy was quickly going to become dead in the water. There were those who hid out in the Library, there were those who resisted but there were a _reason_ they had hid underground. There were far more people who had supported the Queen and her Tea. After all, there was something to be said for the idea that all one had to do was take a sip of Tea and feel the purest, most fantastic emotion ever. Tea had been more than a commodity, it had been a currency. Now though both of those things had dried up and the people no more knew what to do than he did. Caterpillar had spoken of some kind of plan for the economy but everything had gone from crazy to completely insane and suddenly there was no time to worry about what was going to happen _after_ the coup, only that the coup had to take place.

Jack shook himself as he looked down. He was dressed in the 'uniform' of the Hearts, the red violent and bright in the otherwise sterile room he stood in. The ebony shoes he wore were polished enough to easily reflect the lights above his head, their laces neatly tied. It was strange to think about his shoes but he realized that no matter the world he had lived in, he had always had his shoes polished. Though he did not think for his entire time in the other world he had worn anything red--and certainly not this much and in such a violent shade. A narrow belt encircled his waist and a white shirt tucked into the pants. Untied around his neck hung the black tie he had yet to tie. He could not bring himself to do it, to knot the fabric around his throat. Because if he did that, if he knotted the fabric around his throat, if he tied that tie and pulled on his blazer that would mean he was one step closer to having to go outside and fact the rest of the world.

For all that he had dreamed of being the hero and saving Wonderland, Jack Heart had yet to figure out how to actually _run_ the place.

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On the other side of the door, the Ten of Clubs was pacing.

Ten had always been something of a survivor. He had quickly seen that it was the Queen who was going to rule Wonderland, just as he had seen it when she lost and the crown fell to another. But it was more than that. Ten knew how to get things done. It was what had made him valuable to the Queen and it was what had kept him alive thus far. Unfortunately looking at the closed door on which he had knocked several times, he had no idea how he was going to get Wonderland's new monarch to come out of his room. The last of the Oysters had gone through the Looking Glass yesterday and the reality of the entirety of the economy collapsing was weighing down on them. Not to mention the Queen was still out there somewhere planning Cards knew what. And, if things did not get better, it would not take much to get a significant portion of the population go go to her.

There were not many people like Alice--or even like Jack--in Wonderland.

People liked feeling happy. They liked instant gratification. No matter the reason, that had been taken that away from them. They were not happy. If they could find a way to fix this quickly then perhaps they would be once more, but if not then there were going to be serious problems in Wonderland. Ten could see the cards being dealt, but he had yet to see how the hands played out. He had no idea what was going to happen, only that he needed to see what hands were going to be in play for the next round. But the Heart family had been in power for a very long time and they had been kind to the Clubs--when they were useful. He had survived the abrupt shift in power with more than his head. He might not be so lucky another time.

"Your Majesty?" Ten knocked on the door, only to find once more that there was no reply. He turned to one of the guards standing sentry outside, "alert me the moment he comes out," he said.

Ten turned around and strode down the hallway. The makeshift residence was just that: makeshift. It was an old residence of the Heart family, one in the middle of the City. But it was difficult to secure, even harder to make work for all the people who had been displaced. The only saving grace was that most of the people's possessions had been destroyed in the collapse that had killed the King and signified the end of far more than the Queen's rule. Fewer things were extremely beneficial when one was packing courtiers used to far more room into a much smaller space. Even if it was only temporarily, there was not a force in Wonderland who did worse with slight discomfort than the members of the Queen's old Court. Even now he could see the dislike in their eyes for their current living situation. Though in Ten's opinion they should just be happy they were living at all.

All except for one.

Ten stopped outside the door, nodding to the two guards who stood there as well. Raising a fist he knocked on the door gently, trying not to convey the urgency he felt coursing through his bones.

"Come in," a voice replied.

"Your Grace," he said stepping through the doors and bowing to the lone figure in the room.

Though small and dull, the room only heightened the beauty of its sole occupant. Like the rest of them, her possessions were largely gone. Still she managed to be almost heartbreakingly lovely. Not in the way that Alice had been beautiful, that beauty that one saw only if they looked for it. No, the woman sitting there was beautiful enough to stop a man even with a passing glance. Her image was softer though, in light of the situation. Unlike most of the courtiers who remained in the finery they had worn, unwilling to acknowledge the change, she was clothed in black. Admittedly the high neck and long sleeves only served to enhance the fact the dress fitted her like a second skin, but it was black none the less. When he entered she did not turn from her seat at the small table but Ten knew she was more than aware of his presence.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Your Grace," he said, "but it seems His Majesty is having trouble leaving his room."

"Perhaps something is the matter," Duchess replied finally

"Undoubtably, Your Grace. However he does not seem to feel inclined to reply. I was wondering if you would be kind enough to come with me and try your hand at convincing him that Wonderland cannot run without him."

"I doubt I would have much luck," she said reaching out and picking up a compact that lay on the table.

In the reflection of the small mirror, Ten glimpsed the red around her eyes. There was black too, obviously having run from her eyeliner, but she quickly wiped that away. He watched as she picked up the sponge and pressed the cosmetic to her face, erasing the lines that had marred the makeup on her cheeks. Placing it down, he watched as she picked up a small tube that lay nearby. Her hand made no move to open it however, her eyes locked with whatever demon she saw in the mirror that lay in her hand. Ten risked her hesitation, taking a step forward, towards the woman sitting there.

"Please, Your Grace," he said, "Wonderland _needs_ him."

"And what makes you think I would be the one to reach him?" she asked finally.

"With respect," Ten said, "you've always been able to reach him."

Duchess's eyes moved in the reflection from herself to lock with the man who stood behind her. Though they both knew he was right it was not as though she took any sort of pleasure in the fact that she was the one who could reach the King. it was that very ability that had landed her in the position that she found herself currently sitting in. Turning her gaze back to her own reflection, Duchess looked at the woman who looked back at her. How could this woman, this creature, how could she be of any use? She was a creature made by the Queen, made to spy and control the errant Prince--now the King. Her single act of defiance had proven her to the Prince, proven her enough that her head was still on her neck and her body was still in the makeshift palace and not off in the middle of the woods with his mother.

But it had not woken her up.

Duchess supposed it was foolish, but a part of her had thought that by rescuing him she would somehow come to herself. That she would feel again, that she would act again, that she would be _herself._ But none of that had happened. She still felt numbed, still felt drugged. She still felt like what she had been made into. Like clay that had been molded into something completely different but could not figure out how to find its true shape. Whatever she had been before, the person she had been before, it was not someone she could go back to being. No matter how desperately she wished that was the case. Behind her she knew Ten was still standing, still waiting for her to do something. Finally he spoke, but it was anything but the words she wanted to hear.

"Please," Ten continued, urgency slipping into his voice, "The people of Wonderland need their monarch."

Duchess closed her eyes and inhaled at the sadness that gripped her heart. She did not know why, precisely, she felt sad. Only that she did feel so. Terribly so. But it was not simply sadness. It was emptiness as well. She felt rather like a puppet who had her strings cut. She was so used to having clear orders, to being moved and danced and paraded around that now that there was no-one to do it for her she was quite unsure of what she should do. She had hated what they had done to her, curses on the Queen had been in the back of her mouth every moment she had stood in the costumes she was put in. Or, at least, they had been in the beginning. But after the first visit to the Doctors, after the first sip of tea or the second, or maybe it had been the third, the curses faded. A part of her had struggled but that part had only been so strong and in far too short a time for her to like, it had been defeated by the rest of her.

Duchess opened her hand, looking down to see the tube that lay in her palm. The color of the lipstick was a bright and jarring red, the color that had graced her lips for so long. It was a color that drew men in, a color that promised power, pleasure and sin. But it was impractical. It promised but it never delivered. Men had fantasized about what her lips would do to them, dreamed about it even as their wives and girlfriends watched. But even as they had dreamed, even as sweat had beaded the top of their lips, it had all been a lie. The red lipstick would not last through a kiss, much less what the men dreamed about. And yet all it took was the promise for them to give her power, for them to give her everything she had ever wanted.

With a steady, practiced hand Duchess uncapped the lipstick. A twist exposed the red lipstick to its fullest. Parting her lips, Duchess pressed the lipstick to the center of her lip, dragging its violent color across the full sweep of her bottom lip. One half, then the other. Her upper lip came next, color sweeping over the arch, the bow, everything kissed by the violent shade. Opening her mouth a bit fuller, Duchess touched the lipstick to the inner corners of her mouth, leaving nothing untouched with the bright color. Capping the tube, she set it down and picked the sponge up from her powder compact, touching it to the outer lines of her lips, ensuring their perfection. One final inspection and Duchess closed the compact, setting it on the small table before she stood up and turned to face Ten. Relief and hope were both on the Club's face, as if her presence truly would make things better. Duchess hated him for the look she saw on his face.

How could he still believe so easily?

How could _anyone_ believe so easily?

Running a hand along the smooth fabric of her dress, Duchess turned around and reached up high on her throat, her fingers finding the small buttons that ran the entire front length of the dress. She had not allowed herself to be seen since the fall of the Casino. Her dress was black and appropriate given the circumstances but that did not mean it was necessary--did not mean the others would understand. Her fingers worked the buttons apart until her skin was exposed almost to the dip of her breasts. She left the high collar of the dress up, knowing that her pale skin would only be highlighted by the dark frame. Turning back to face Ten, she watched as he quickly bowed to her before holding open the door. Duchess stepped out of the room and into the hallway.

Ten stepped out as well, closing the door behind him. He walked in front of her, leading her through the corridors. Though not as large as the palace, the place was still large. And Jack's room was being kept under strict secrecy. She knew he was being moved around constantly, the threat of assassination heavy on everyone's mind. Jack was the last of the Heart's and even if his mother had been a terrible monarch and even if he could not be a great one--which she knew he could--he was still the last in a line of the family that had ruled Wonderland for the longest amount of time. If he died now, it would not only end the longest dynasty in Wonderland's history, it would plunge the world into even more chaos. And if there was one thing that Wonderland could not afford at the moment, it was more chaos. Ten led her down a new hallway, one she could not remember going down before he stopped outside a room with two guards standing outside the door. It was not strange though, almost every room had a guard outside the door.

Ten stepped aside as she walked to the door, almost unsure of what she should do. Still she did not let it show on her face. Her features were smooth as she looked at the door that stood between her and Wonderland's monarch. Duchess did not know what she was going to say to Jack. Past the hug they had shared when the Queen was defeated, she had neither seen nor spoken to him. And yet standing behind her was a man who seemed to believe that she held the key to getting through to him. Duchess moved her hand up, prepared to knock on the door. It was only when the appendage came close to her face that she realized it was shaking.

Her hand was shaking.

Duchess looked at the trembling thing. If there was one thing her hands did not do, it was shake. They had not shook when she had walked into the Throne Room for the first time, nor had they shook when she had walked in any time after that. They had not shook when she signed the slip of paper that made her life no longer her own. Nor had they shook when the Queen had ordered her to be Beheaded anymore than they trembled when she had changed her mind in one swift stroke and ordered her sent to the Truth Room instead. No, Duchess's hands simply did not shake. And yet now they were. Quickly clasping them in front of her, Duchess took a deep breath before she reached up and knocked on the door, not looking to see if the trembling remained.

"Your Majesty?" she called through the door, only to receive no reply, "Jack?" still nothing.

So she did the only thing she could. She reached out and opened the door, stepping into the room and closing it behind her before any of the men outside could stop her.

His room was no different from hers and somehow that struck her as _wrong_. She had never been in the Queen's chambers but she knew they were lavish--more lavish than the ones she had once shared with their son. It had been a facade really, whatever feelings they had shared too warped by the Queen to even resemble what they had once been. But they had shared a room and a lavish one at that. Now they were separated, their rooms identical and sparse. A part of her was surprised that she would even notice such a thing. Her eyes moved across the small space as she tried to compose herself and find what she was going to say to the man standing by the mirror.

He looked terrible.

Shadows darkened the undersides of his eyes and the tie he was supposed to have knotted lay limp around his neck. He seemed to be lost in his reflection, in whatever he saw when he looked at himself. She doubted he even heard her come in. Still she could read clearly on his face what he was thinking. She had always been able to read him, it was why the Queen had singled her out for what she deemed the highest honor and though she had been happy at first, she had never quite believed it to be the honor she claimed. Duchess looked at Jack, hesitating as if he would come to her, but when he did not she forced herself to walk forward towards him.

"Your Majesty," she said his title once more, "its time to go to the Court."

He seemed to become aware of himself just then, his eyes finally blinking. He straitened up, his brow furrowing in confusion. Duchess felt concern flit through her, slowly she took a step forward towards him. She did not dare reach out for him though, keeping her hands firmly by her sides, half hidden in the fabric of her dress. She could feel them shaking, but now it was worse. She could feel them getting slick as well and she knew it was only a matter of time before sweat beaded her brow. Jack did not turn to face her though, but at least his eyes were not locked on his own in the mirror.

"Majesty, are you alright?" she asked, pushing the strange feeling aside.

"I--" he stopped, finally turning around to face her, "Duchess," his brow furrowed further, "what are you doing here?"

"Ten came to get me," she said, "you weren't opening your door.

"Yes, I--" Jack trailed off, realizing for the life of him he couldn't remember what he had been doing moments earlier, "I must have gotten lost in my thoughts," he said finally.

"Of course," Duchess replied, trying desperately to ignore the feeling as it increased.

Jack frowned as he looked at the woman in front of him. Though it had been some time since they had been alone without some sort of agenda, he knew that she did not look as she currently at the moment. Sweat beaded her brow and though her hands were half hidden in the folds of her dress, he could see them trembling. Trembling enough that it was obvious to see. Her lips were still painted scarlet, her eyes lined in ebony, but Jack _knew_ that it was cosmetics that kept her face as perfect as it was. In spite of the fact he could not remember why he was standing in front of the mirror, he knew he was still standing. It looked as though Duchess was not going to be doing that for much longer.

"You need to sit," he said finally, the alarm he felt increasing as he watched her chest begin to move more erratically, "now."

"I'm fine," she said, "Ten said--"

"Sit," Jack said, pulling the chair out for her.

"Really, I'm fine," Duchess said trying to hold her dress, "I'm--" her breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening in what could have been surprise.

"Duchess--" Jack took a step forward.

He barely made it to her in time as her eyes rolled up and she collapsed into his arms.

For a second, Jack was paralyzed with fear. What had happened to her? What was happening to him? Though he wasn't collapsing into the ground, he could not remember what he had been doing or when he had begun to stand in front of the mirror. Something was terribly wrong with them--terribly wrong with _her_. What was going on? Jack shook himself, forcing his mind to focus on the sick woman in his arms. She looked so pale and small, her features tight with pain. Jack felt helpless, useless even as he tried to figure out what he could possibly do. Immediately he twisted around to face the door.

"Someone help!"

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**Okay so for anyone whose ever done anything with, um, substances, you know that cold turkey's never a pleasant thing. And for all her bitchiness, the Queen's just too devious not to have a backup plan in case something happened. **

**So obviously the main couple's going to be Jack/Duchess but there WILL be Alice/Hatter in this. **

**Please review!**

**Seriously people, especially in the early stages of a story I don't know if I'm going to commit for the whole big thing. Knowing there's interest really makes me want to update and continue stories. Best way to do that is review!**

**So please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**An Update? What?!**

**See? I didn't forget you!**

**Sorry, life is kind of crazy right now bu****t inspiration struck!**

**First off we've got the title change. If you google 'stacking the deck cards', you'll get a clue as to why that title fits better.**

**Also there is going to be the Cheshire Cat in this. That was my one big issue in the whole miniseries. The Cheshire Cat is SUCH an awesome character I thought that he was ripped off. So he's a character here. A human personification. Not some 10 second CGI cat.**

**Because as those of you who are reading my Bleach/Wonderland story know, I'm huge fan of the Cheshire Cat.**

**So back to the story!**

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As he watched the newly appointed King of Wonderland pace, Ten could not help but think that there was going to be a track in the floor before the night was through.

At the King's desperate shout, he had entered the room to see Jack kneeling on the ground, cradling Duchess to his chest. It had been an exceptionally long time since anyone had felt bad enough to go to a physician, though the court did keep one employed. Ten had summoned the old man immediately and he had moved Duchess to the makeshift infirmary he had the sense to set up before promptly throwing them all out. Despite several attempts to remind the King of his duties, he had refused to leave the hall outside the infirmary until he had news of what was going on. If Ten had been any kind of romantic he would have found it endearing. As it stood, he was not, and the knowledge that the absence of its King was the last thing Wonderland needed made it exceptionally hard for him to stand there and watch said King wear down the concrete.

"Majesty, I am sure she will be fine," Ten said.

"You don't--you don't know that," Jack replied, "you didn't see her--" he stopped, his feet pausing before they resumed pacing, "it was like she couldn't breathe. And then she just--" he trailed off furiously, "I have to know what's happening."

"I understand," Ten lied, stepping in to prevent him from barging in, "but barging in there is not going to get you answers with any more speed," he paused before continuing, "and there is another matter to attend to."

"No," Jack shook his head, "no I'm not going anywhere--"

"Master Cheshire's here," Ten interrupted, "and he has been waiting for two hours in the throne room. As you have yet to behead anyone--" the Club trailed off.

Inwardly Jack groaned. Of _course _Master Cheshire would be here on the one day he did not want to do anything 'Kingly'. Master Cheshire was not the type to be kept waiting. He had walked out on his mother at the height of her reign, leaving only a rude gesture in his wake. His mother had been livid and Jack had been amused. The only reason that Master Cheshire's head was still firmly attached to his neck and his neck to his shoulders was because he was valuable. Too valuable to be discarded. Worse, Master Cheshire was one of those exceptionally frustrating individuals who was well aware of his worth and used it to his every advantage. Rulers indulged Master Cheshire and even Mad March had known that physical violence wasn't going to do anything to the man with the wicked grin. Jack would have bet that the doctors Dee and Dum were scared of him and Hatter, well, even Hatter had been smart enough to know that messing with Master Cheshire was anything but wise.

"And he's still there?" he asked.

"I believe so, Majesty. Though I would imagine he will not stay for much longer."

"Thank you Ten," he said, "stay here. If there's news--" he looked at the door.

"I will come for you immediately," Ten said with a bow.

Jack nodded before striding down the hallway, fast enough to make good time, not fast enough to make it seem like he was rushing. He knew he was far enough away that Master Cheshire _shouldn't_ have seen him--just as he knew there was a good chance he would anyway. Rounding the corner for the throne room, he buttoned the blazer he wore quickly before opening the doors before the guards could get to them and announce him.

The throne room was a makeshift affair and appeared that way. A long table, set with chairs as well as a lone one placed a bit away from the others to act as the designated throne were the room's only ornaments. Sitting in the makeshift throne was none other than Master Cheshire. Snug purple pants encased his crossed legs, tucked into black boots studded with silver. The color of his shirt was a violent shade of pink, half hidden by the black leather coat he wore, edged in ice white silk. His blond hair fell in waves close to shoulders, half hiding bright violet eyes that sparked with wickedness. The bright grin he wore was directed towards the scantily clad woman who leaned forward, her painted lips curving into a soft smile that would have looked innocent on a woman wearing more cloths.

"Well well well if it isn't the Golden Boy," Cheshire said, his eyes sliding over to Jack, "you finally break mama bear's heart?"

"I believe you know the answer to that," Jack said.

"You bet your badly dyed hair I do," he said swinging his legs over the side of the chair and resting his elbows on his forearms, "gotta say I almost regretted leaving when I heard what you're friends managed to do. Brilliant distribution of labor on that one, by the way. You just might make a decent King yet."

"Thank you," Jack said, knowing better than to goad the man in front of him, "to what do I owe the honor of this visit?" he asked.

"Honor?" Cheshire raised an eyebrow, "if this is how you treat your 'honored' I shudder to think what the peanut gallery gets."

"You seem to have had no trouble entertaining yourself," Jack said, his eyes moving pointedly to the woman nearby.

"Making the best of the situation, Jackie-boy," he said jumping to his feet and appearing almost instantly in front of Jack, "so," he said, "you do know mamma bear's still alive, right?"

"Yes," Jack said slowly.

"See that's your problem," he said, "you don't follow through on these things. And that, my friend, is a problem for all of us. Your moms is still out there, you've got an economy thats about to get as flushed as that tea--and don't be thinking that your little girlfriend is a unique case. Because she ain't."

"How do you know about what's happening to her?" Jack demanded, his eyebrows drawing together.

"Please, Jackie boy, do you really think I don't know everything?" he snorted, "good news is that it won't be as bad for everyone else. Bad news is everyone else is still going to feel like crap. And when people feel like crap they tend to like that feeling to stop."

"Yes, thank you, I am aware of that."

"Well, Jackie boy, where do you think they're gonna go?"

"The North," Jack said.

"The North. Someone get this man a cookie!" he paused, "oh wait, thats right, there's no tea to go with the cookie. Cancel that order and get him something that doesn't require tea!"

The North.

Trying not to shout in frustration, Jack looked over at the man with his arm around his shoulder before looking over to where the map of wonderland had once stood in his mother's throne room. His mother did have a sister, a woman who had once been as nice as his mother was wicked. But time--and tea--changed people. And now she was just as mad as his mother was, though she did hide it somewhat better. But the woman did have one incredibly important thing. She still had oysters and if she still had oysters she still had tea. In the North Tea was rationed carefully, reserved for the rich and powerful, but it was still there. And if the people started feeling too man effects, they would go and try to get it in any way that they could. Even if it was just the promise of it, or worse, just a taste, they would go to the North for it. And if she could not handle the influx of people, his mother's sister would die before she admitted that her kingdom was smaller than that of her sister.

And if she had an opportunity to take over his mother's kingdom--

Suddenly his earlier panic seemed much less. The threat of the entire economy collapsing, his mother still being alive and out there Duchess suffering, everything that he had thought was a problem was suddenly eclipsed by the threat of the North and his aunt. The White Queen made a bid for his mother's Kingdom, when it was as weak as it was, then there was a good chance she was going to get what she had been waiting to sink her claws into for such a long time. Jack had never truly known his aunt, only that she could be as petty and vile as his mother. But, to his knowledge, the people of the North had not been incited to try and rebel against their Queen. So they were happy, or, at the very least, happier than they would have been any other place in Wonderland. The Kingdom in the North was smaller but not to be underestimated. His mother had spent a lot of time, effort and manpower in making sure that the kingdom was isolated and not a threat to her own. He had never been sure why his mother had let her sister keep any kind of kingdom, only that it must have had something to do with the single long-buried, most likey broken, sentimental bone in his mother's body.

"If the North makes a bid for this kingdom then I will deal with it when the issue arises," Jack said looking over at him.

"Famous last words, Jackie boy, famous last words," he said taking a step back, "hey, when you decide to get your head out of your ass and get Alice back, can I get her this time? Because, you know, your moms kind of promised I could go and get her _last_ time and she still sent Rabbit-boy."

"My mother was never going to send you anywhere," Jack said to the man.

"Yeah, I know, but hey, if you send me, then you'll really be different from your mother."

"I would also be unleashing you on the world," Jack said icily.

"Hey, a little more 'unleashing' and we could've avoided this entire mess entirely, eh Jackie boy?" he said with a wink, before he clapped his hands together and disappeared entirely.

Jack looked at the spot on the floor where the man had stood.

One day he was going to have to figure out how he did that.

Others came in and others left and before Jack truly knew what was happening the entire day had gone by. All with him sitting there and listening to the problems of other people. Half the battle was listening and helping, half of it was making sure that none knew of the threat that they were facing. Bu when he was not sure how to deal with it, he could not expect his badly shaken subject to even think about what they were facing. When the last courtier had left, when he was finally alone in the room, only then did the Ten of Clubs come to see him.

"Your Majesty?"

He turned to see the Ten of Clubs standing there, hands by his sides.

"How is she?" he questioned, knowing that the Club had been watching Duchess.

"The physicians have said that she is doing much better and that, if you wish, you may see her."

Even in such a small building it took most people ten minutes to get from the makeshift throne room to the equally makeshift medical wing. But Jack made it in five. Like the palace that had been destroyed, the medical wing was a shadow of what it should have been. Beds were separated by silk curtains that did little more than provide the illusion of privacy. His mother had loved silk and gotten it in abundance. When the palace had collapsed and everyone had begun to use what they could, silk had suddenly become a much more common fabric in Wonderland. The beds were largely full with people still recovering from the recent fight. At the sound of his approach one of the doctors had moved from the curtain to greet the King with a bow. Jack vaguely recognized him as one of the more experienced physicians and gave a nod of thanks towards Ten for realizing that he would want only the best for Duchess.

"Your Majesty," the physician said, "she is this way."

"May I see her?" he asked moving forward, only to be stopped.

"In a moment. Before you go in I must speak to you on her condition. If you would?" he motioned towards the door. Jack looked at the drawn curtains before nodding and following the man out into the hallway, the best kind of privacy that they could get, "Your Majesty, Her Grace is proceeding through the symptoms of withdrawal as best as can be expected given the circumstances--"

"Circumstances?" Jack questioned, feeling the first fingers of fear creeping up his spine.

"Your mother--" the physician began before seeming to understand that Jack had no idea what he was talking about, "Her Grace was given a special brand of tea developed by your mother."

"A special brand of tea?" Jack questioned.

"Yes," the doctor said looking at the young monarch, "a blend of--" he looked at the notepad he held, "devotion, adoration and obedience," he looked up at the young King's face, "your mother had this blend specially designed for her, administered at precise intervals--Your Majesty are you alright?"

Jack looked at the doctor's pad. She had been given a special blend of tea designed by his mother. It made sense, the Duchess was a product of his mother's whims. She would have given the younger woman special brand of tea that ensured that if there was one person that she was loyal to it was his mother. He had just assumed that it had been psychological. But if she had been drugged with tea, if her strongest feelings had been of adoration, devotion and obedience, all directed towards his mother, then of course she would have followed her every order without question. That was what the tea did. It took what you felt and it eclipsed it, it made a single emotion--or blend of them--more powerful than any other. A few sips of honesty and he would have spilled everything that she wanted to know. If she had been subject to a long, controlled amount of substance, then she hadn't stood a chance. Even so, the thought that she had been drugged like that, it was anything but comforting to the young monarch. His mother only did that to people who--to people who defied her. And she never did just tea alone.

"Did she got to the Truth Room?" he asked, his voice sounding hollow to his own ears. The doctor looked unnecessarily at his notes, "did my mother send her to the Truth Room?" he demanded, his voice, "did she?!"

"Yes, Your Majesty," the doctor said, surprised at the young man's rage.

Jack swore and turned away from the doctor. She had been to the Truth Room, and if she had been subject to a special blend of tea he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she had been to the Truth Room on more than one occasion. One trip was usually enough to bring people to their knees but if it took tea then it to multiple visits, to find the right blend of tea. He turned back on his heel and looked at the doctor. He wanted to ask how many. Two times? Four? Ten--but even as he considered asking in the pit of his stomach he knew the answer was not one he would be able to stand. He knew her superficial fears, the ones of spiders and, oddly enough, sharp objects on the ground ever since she hurt her foot as a child. What would the Twins have done with those? What would they have done with the deeper, darker fears of hers? The ones he had once known--back when he had thought that he knew her. They would have taken those as well and twisted them until she had not known what was up or down, right or wrong or any of that. He had seen the Truth Room once, because his mother had wanted to scare some sense or obedience into him, and it had been the most terrifying moment of his young life.

"Take me to her," he said turning and facing the doctor.

"This way, Your Majesty," the doctor said turning and leading him into the makeshift hospital once more.

The doctor lead him across the room, pulling aside the curtain surrounding her bed.

She looked small.

That was Jack's first thought at the sight of her. Without the odd but intoxicating combination grace and flirtation she usually wore, she seemed smaller than before. Her blonde hair was pushed back from pale features, the long locks falling across her shoulders. Even without her tending her hair still had somewhat of a curl to it. The pale blond color only highlighted the paleness of her skin. He could still see sweat on her brow and the last of the makeup on her face, pigment stubbornly clinging to the porcelain and rose of her skin. Hospital gowns were reserved for those truly in need, another thing lost to the collapse, but someone had changed her from the heavy black dress to something far more pale and simple. He could see nothing in the way of IVs or oxygen masks nearby her. She was just, just laying there. In a makeshift hospital, in a makeshift palace with a makeshift King standing watching her.

"She isn't receiving care," he said, his voice dull to his own ears.

"I'm afraid, Your Majesty, that there is little we can do," the doctor said.

"I see."

He did not know how his mind arrived at the conclusion it did, only that when he moved forward he knew it was the right thing to do. With deft motions he peeled back the thin sheet that covered her, exposing her form underneath. Reaching down he slid a hand under her legs and another under her shoulders, pulling her into his embrace. She was boneless, but when he shifted his arm, her head easily found its place against his shoulder. A soft sound escaped her lips but she did not wake in his embrace. Her body was warm against his as he tightened his arms and looked up at the doctor.

"Her Grace will be receiving any further care from my room," he said.

"Need permitting, of course, Your Majesty," the doctor said.

Jack nodded and turned as Ten ran ahead to clear the halls, both for the privacy of the King and the Duchess he carried.

* * *

**Next time we FINALLY are going to get some Duchess/Jack action! **

**So you know how you can make that come faster?**

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**Seriously I love /faves but I'll be honest its all about the reviews. Thats what I get in my inbox and thats what lets me know that people are enjoying the story! And that, my friends, makes me want to update.**

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